god, she's such a loser
by leighismyname
Summary: in which Annabeth is at her first party, loses her friend (in more ways than one), and finds comfort in a boy. A boy with bright eyes and a funny story. mortal au/ sort of songfic


**Sorry for the rachel bashing. I actually quite like her. But it was necessary for the plot.**

* * *

 _"Everything felt fine when I was half of a pair;_

 _now through no fault of mine, there's no other half there."_

 _Micheal in the Bathroom - Be More Chill_

* * *

She feels the night is off before it even comes close to being so.

In the car on the ride over, she felt uneasy about the night, but she figured it was the nervousness of going to a real high school party.

Being a junior, you'd think she'd have gone to plenty of parties, but, for Annabeth, this is her first one. She's going with her friend, Rachel. Her only friend, in fact.

Annabeth has always been a bit of an outcast. Studying and reading always taking up her enjoyments rather than getting shit-faced or higher than the Empire State Building. So, it's a wonder when someone like _Rachel Elizabeth Dare_ wanted to be her friend. Willingly.

See, Rachel is pretty much the exact opposite of Annabeth. In every single aspect ever. Rachel is rich, beautiful, easy to talk to, hilarious. She has bright red hair which contrasts immensely with Annabeth's blonde. Rachel paints, Annabeth reads. Rachel goes out with friends on weekends, Annabeth goes to sleep early on weekends.

So yeah, it's a wonder.

But over the years, Annabeth got used to it. Being friends with someone as magnificent as Rachel, that is.

Something Annabeth never got used to was parties, especially because tonight is her first one.

Loud, blasting music beating in sync with her heart, the room smelling so thick of smoke and alcohol, she can practically feel herself getting drunk already, and she's barely through the front door. Annabeth clings to Rachel's arm, who seems too much at home for such an odd environment.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Annabeth has to scream over the music to be heard. She sees a senior attacking a girl's neck on the far wall and Annabeth eyes them wearily, as if they're about to grow claws and attack her.

Rachel smiles and rolls her eyes playfully. "We get drunk," she screams back.

And this is when Annabeth loses Rachel.

In one second, they're heading somewhere (Annabeth is just following Rachel like a lost puppy at this point), and in the next, Annabeth looks away as someone knocks into her, then Rachel is gone. Her bright red hair lost in the sea of dirty-blondes and brunettes. It's madness.

Annabeth digs her fingernails into her palms, hoping she doesn't draw blood. She takes a few deep breaths and heads for a room with yellow light coming from it, she figures that will be the kitchen. Where the drinks are. Where Rachel will be.

Rachel isn't there.

It's the elete math club playing poker and smoking enough weed to fill a garbage truck. Annabeth gags, and leaves.

She heads down a hallway, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. Her nails dig deeper into her skin.

Annabeth searches through the ocean of heads for a glimpse of red, but nothing. She turns and opens a swinging door to her left. The first thing she sees is Rachel with a cigarette held loosely in her fingers. Annabeth didn't even know people still smoked cigarettes. Rachel sits on the counter in the actual kitchen next to the sink, she's in a group of eight other people, who Annabeth recognizes as the cheerleaders who often come up to talk to Rachel when the two are eating lunch.

Annabeth starts to close the door, she doesn't want to invade Rachel's privacy, but before she does, she hears, "So, why do you hang with her anyway?"

Rachel takes a quick drag, letting the smoke ooze out of her mouth instead of blowing it out. "I dunno." She pauses, then says, "I mean, she's lonely. You know? She has no friends, parents hate her, I figured she needed somebody to talk to, so whatever."

Annabeth knows she's talking about her. She shifts on her feet and listens more intently.

"Yikes, parents hate her? Why? Do you know?"

Rachel stares at the butt of her cigarette, the embers still a bright red, like her own hair. "She has no friends. She told me her stepmom apparently abuses her. Like, physically. Screaming, throwing beer bottles. Everything."

Annabeth doesn't wince in pain as her nails sink into her own skin, tearing the flesh and letting blood drip to the carpet. She _told_ Rachel not to tell anyone.

Chorus of 'that sucks' and 'ouch' is heard through the room. Rachel nods.

"But like," a different voice starts, "why are you still friends with her? Didn't you say she's a buzzkill or something?"

Rachel gets a sick smile on her face and nods. "Buzzkill, definitely. She's always reading, or studying. Then she'll tell _me_ to study, or read."

"Fucking prude," someone comments with a laugh.

"Where's she now? Probably off volunteering at the library or something, huh?" This gets a few chuckles.

"No," Rachel says, disbelief in her voice. "She's here. Somewhere, but she's here."

One person laughs as if it's the funniest thing they've ever heard. " _Annabeth Chase?_ At a party like this?"

Someone steals the cigarette from Rachel's hand, takes a drag, then says, "Probably crying herself stupid in the bathroom."

Bubbly laughter erupts from Rachel's chest, "God, she's such loser."

A girl says, "Oh, hey! Did you hear Anita and Cameron broke up? I for sure thought she was gonna have his babies."

"Who knows, maybe she's carrying them now."

Everyone laughs, Annabeth does not.

* * *

 _"Memories get erased, and I'll get replaced with a newer, cooler, version of me."_

* * *

Annabeth's heart pounds faster than the music this time. She feels it too.

She leans against the wall opposite the kitchen door and the base of the song beats on the walls. Her heart goes faster.

She's crying but she doesn't notice. She just needs to _get out._ But the house is a maze, the people are making it worse. Luckily, the hallway she's in is vacant, but on each side is grinding, smoking, screaming, judgmental teenagers who she's sees everyday of her life. Kids she'd rather not see her cry.

She _needs_ to leave.

Next to the kitchen there's a staircase, Annabeth figures it's her best bet and goes up them. At the top, she's met with a balcony where kids in their knickers are jumping off into the pool down below, she makes a right down the hallway.

The first door is open, inside three kids lay asleep on the bed. The next room is closed.

She rubs tears out of her eyes but more come. God, she needs away _now_.

The door opens and it's a bathroom, though it's occupied. Percy Jackson has a girl against the wall, his shirt is halfway up his chest and the girl is gripping his hair so tight it looks like she's going to rip it out.

Annabeth knows him.

She's known him since elementary school in third grade, though she's never talked to him. He's on the football team, she knows. He broke his foot a few months ago and had to get surgery. He sits in front of her in math. He smells really good.

She's still crying, and he's looking at her. Looking into her.

Annabeth stumbles over her words as she gropes for the door handle again. "Uh. I'm so sorry." She hastily shuts the door and goes further down the hall into what seems to be the parents room. It's dark, and eerily quiet, minus the thumping music and screams from outside. Annabeth runs to the window and opens it, letting her tears trace down her face and the cold night air wash over her.

God, Rachel called her a loser. A buzzkill. She _reads_ too much; _studies_ too much. Rachel, her one and only friend, told the cheer squad about her stepmother. Fucking fantastic.

So much for her first party.

She lets the tears come now, allows them to slid down her face and trace to her neck. She drops her head in her hands. God, she's pathetic.

" _Probably crying herself stupid in the bathroom_."

Well, she thought, you got that half right.

* * *

 _"All you know about me is my name_

 _Awesome party_

 _I'm so glad I came."_

* * *

The door squeaks open and light from the hallway shines in, the pounding base banging like a hammer on Annabeth's head. She hears the door creek open, the shuffle of feet, then the door screech close again.

She feels a panic set in. What is happening? The worst kind of thoughts swim in her mind, but she doesn't move an inch.

"Annabeth?"

It's him. Percy Jackson from Algebra, from the football team, from third grade. Percy Jackson from the bathroom.

She furiously wipes her eyes on her sweatshirt sleeves, in doing so, she sees the dried blood on her palms and prays she didn't just wipe blood on her face. "Um, I'm, uh, I'm really sorry for barging in the bathroom like that, I just-I didn't mean to, and well, yeah. I'm sorry."

Pathetic, she thinks.

He stares at her. Into her. His eyes are wide and bright, the green swirling like oceans. "No," he says. "That's not why I'm, um, here," he finishes weakly. "I saw you crying-" fuck "-and I guess I wanted to make sure you're okay? I mean, it's not my business, but I just figured, you know.."

She really doesn't know.

"Yeah," she lies, "I'm fine."

She's really not.

"What happened?" Percy nervously scratches the back of his neck.

"What?" Annabeth asks, feeling odd. Why would he care why she's crying? Will he make fun of her too?

He shifts. "They say strangers are the best to go to for your problems, or something like that."

She fidgets with her sweater. "Rachel Dare and the cheer squad called me a loser, a buzzkill, and a fucking prude. Seeing that Rachel is my only friend, it kinda hurt."

She's too busy looking at her shoes to see Percy staring at her oddly. "You're not."

She looks up. "Huh?"

"You're not a loser, a buzzkill, or a fucking prude."

She quirks a sad smile. "Thanks, but false compliments is only going to make this a lot worse."

He sighs and looks around the room, then goes and sits on the bed. Annabeth watches him.

"When I was in fourth grade, I liked this girl. She was smart, but way out of my league. I accidentally told my mom, then my mom told all my friends mom's and then everyone in my class knew who I liked." He chuckles. "Which, in fourth grade, is the worst thing ever. My friends bashed me for it for weeks. To the point where they would make fun of me every chance they got for just liking this girl. But I didn't care. I thought she was pretty and nice, so I made new friends."

She stares at him, frowning for a few moments. "Why did you tell me that?"

He looks at her. Into her.

"I was made fun of for liking a girl, but I kept liking her. I couldn't control my feelings. You are made fun of for being smarter than pretty much everyone at our school, but you're still smart. You can't control your brain."

She chuckles and sits next to him. "That sounded rehearsed."

He smiles. "I got it from a t.v. show."

Annabeth doesn't ask whether it was the story or the moral of it that he got from the show, but she does want to know.

"Thanks, though. For trying to cheer me up. And sorry for barging in on you and that girl." Annabeth mentally pats herself on the back for not stuttering like a mess.

Percy chuckles humorlessly. "I can thank you for that. I swear she pulled a chunk of my hair out."

Annabeth laughs. "I noticed that. You are okay, right?"

He meets her eyes, and she stares at him. Into him.

He says, "Yeah, I'm better now." He frowns suddenly. "You haven't had anything to drink, yeah?"

Annabeth shakes her head. "I'm sober."

"Damn," he mutters, probably not meaning for her to hear, but she does. "I'm still driving you home."

She smiles. "I'm good with that, Rachel was my ride."

And take her home, he does.

Though the journey to the front door is stressful, what with more jumping, grinding, screaming, and judgmental teenagers than she had remembered being there before, the fear of running into Rachel, and the fact that Percy is gripping her hand tightly, Annabeth feels a weight off her chest, her shoulders are lighter.

And yeah, stuff still sucks. People still think she's a prude, her stepmom is still a jerk, but she has a new friend now. A new old friend from Algebra, third grade, the bathroom. A friend who might be missing a chunk of hair, but a friend nonetheless.

At least she's not crying herself stupid in the bathroom over petty cheerleaders.

She holds her chin higher when she sees Rachel throwing up in the front yard, Annabeth's steps a little lighter.

* * *

 **i wrote this in like two hours, which is kinda fast for me. what with getting WAy too distracted and all.**

 **my friend introduced me to this song literally this morning and then this thing came to mind.**

 **I left the ending open, so do with what you think happened as you please.**

 **it's kinda weird, I haven't uploaded in months and here i am, the literal week of finals, coming out with a one shot instead of studying for algebra. oh well, if i fail, ill pass with a B.**

 **hopefully**

 **anyway**

 **how's your guys' weeks going? I hope everything's fine.**

 **I wish you the best of luck in all your endeavors (i had to look up how to spell that)**

 **review if you want! ALSO LISTEN TO THE SONG, IT'S A GREAT SONG AND IT'S STUCK IN MY HEAD.**

 **k bye**

 **-leigh**


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